A Change Of Strategy
by mamaffy
Summary: Set in New Caprica: If he were honest - and he liked to think that he was - he'd have to admit that his courtship wasn't exactly successful. Not that he would admit that to the other models, they were smug enough as it was. Warning: mild non-con


A Change Of Strategy

If he were honest - and he liked to think that he was - he'd have to admit that his courtship wasn't exactly successful. Not that he would admit that to the other models, they were smug enough as it was.

He still believed in patience. She had accepted his touch of her shoulder and taken his hand willingly. But there was no use in bringing that up again, he preferred the others to laugh behind his back.

All he needed was time but, alas, this luxury was running out on him. With the recent events on New Caprica, it wouldn't be long until their living arrangements came to an end. He wasn't ready for that, but he'd probably have no say in it.

Kara was in her favorite spot again. She stood outside the front door, leaning against the iron bars and facing the other end of the hallway. The outside world was all she seemed to be interested in. Leoben liked to pretend there was no outside world, he hated this place. It was a reminder that she wouldn't choose to be with him. Not yet.

He'd always ignore her during hallway time. She'd stare, and scream, and sometimes there'd be silent tears. Which didn't stop her from going there.

Meanwhile, he might busy himself in the kitchen, trying to lure her down with coffee smell or her favorite dishes. On occasion, he'd be in her bedroom. One may think to pick up her laundry or make her bed, when all he was doing was breathing her scents. He knew and loved all of them.

He'd never join her. He'd wait for the small victory to have her coming back to him.

That day he broke this pattern. He slowly approached her and found her lost in thought. She was probing the bars determinedly, trying to find a weakness that she might have overlooked countless times before. Or maybe she was just trying to melt the metal with her mind, he couldn't tell.

She froze for a second, when she heard him, and didn't turn around. Instead the muscles in her jaw twitched and her posture straightened.

He stopped in the doorway and looked at her. All about her was lovely. She wore her hair almost girlish now, which couldn't be more different from what he used to dream about. Still, he wouldn't be fooled, she was anything but soft.

"I hate you," she spat at him, not even bothering to meet his eyes.

"That's what you call it now," he heard himself saying. The words came out less affectionately than he would have wanted. Normally, he'd try hard to put all his worship in his voice, hoping for her to listen. But he figured that she wouldn't listen anyway, so he bit back his speech of destiny and happy endings, and settled for watching her.

"Damn, don't you get it? I'll never change my mind." Her frustration was, not suprisingly, right there for him to see.

"Never is such a relative term," he replied, a little more pleased with his tone.

Her hands slid slowly down the bars. As she put her weight on her arms, her head dropped slightly and she shook it in defeat.

"Listen," she hissed, her voice exhausted. "Why don't you leave me the frak alone?"

He tilted his head and hesitated. It was hard to deny her anything.

"I wish that was the path." Leoben sighed. "But I need you to..."

Without giving her time to get startled, he was behind her, closing the space between them. He secured her hands in a tight grasp against the bars, before he buried his head in the hollow of her neck. Her unfamiliar closeness was almost overwhelming, and he was dazed with the smell of her hair and the warmth of her body.

He'd have to show her, so he trapped her feet between his. With a slight push to the right, he nudged her body sideways and maneuvered one of the bars between her legs. This forced her head to the left, leaving her cheek pressed against metal.

He probably couldn't stop if he wanted to. It wasn't that he didn't hear her protest, or didn't feel her fight; it only seemed distant and secondary compared to everything that screamed for attention.

He closed his eyes to focus, focus on her taste and on every part of her body connected to him. He could almost feel her squirming toward him, aching for contact, just like he did.

"I love you, Kara," he whispered, before he pushed his hips against her, drunken with want and desperate for friction. It was divine, being completely engulfed by her, no fraction of his pelvis untouched. He couldn't help but thrust, slow, and hard, and slightly upward, against her and solid bars.

Suddenly, it was all easy. Easy to pretend that she longed for him, that her moans were freely given. "I love you," it sounded in his head, over and over. Like she said it to him, like she meant it with all her heart.

His hands started moving and went along her sides. With a hard grip on her waist, he continued pushing, bending her a little and panting in her neck.

One of his hands reached around her. With wide spread fingers, he explored the thin fabric of her pants. He felt all of her, smooth skin, the seam of her underwear, curls, and folds.

He let his fingers slide, exploring her, searching for her sensitive spot. He stroked it slowly, back and forth, caressed it in minuscule motions, careful but firm.

Of their own volition, his thrusts became more accentuated, the contact more prolonged. Harder and harder, he was grinding against her, reluctant to ease up and eager to start again. It wasn't enough.

His hand slid farther between her legs. Through all the layers, he imagined the promise of dampness, calling for him. In tiny circles, he opened her up.

She struggled to turn around and he let it happen, still buried in her hair, not ready to look in her eyes.

One hand fumbled with her pants while he roughly grabbed her backside with the other. He grabbed all he could reach, pulled her in and pulled her open.

He had absolute faith. Up until a faint taste of copper made him realize that he'd have to try harder next time. That he'd have to leave her alone, for now. On her own, leaning against metal, catching her breath. 


End file.
